Ten Years Gone
by mamapranayama
Summary: After ten years as a comatose 'John Doe', Sam wakes to find himself disoriented and alone, struggling to unravel the mystery behind what happened to him and why Dean is nowhere to be found. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and I don't get paid for having fun messing with them.**_

_**A/N: So, this story was originally going to be just a one-shot, but by the time I had finished writing it, it was over 17,000 words long. So, I've decided to split it up into five parts and will post a new chapter each day. I'm really hoping you like this, but just be warned that I do not have a beta, so all mistakes, bad grammar and weird tangents are all mine. Let me know what you think- I love all reviews- good or bad. :D**_

**10 Years Gone**

_Then as it was, then again it will be  
>An' though the course may change sometimes<br>Rivers always reach the sea  
><em>

_(Ten Years Gone, Led Zeppelin)_

**Part I**

Awareness wasn't something that came to him all at once. It came bit by bit, piece by piece like a puzzle slowly pulling itself together. Images and sounds- they all floated in and out incoherently through the corners of his consciousness- niggling at him, prodding him to make sense of them, but they were like wisps of smoke and catching hold of them long enough to know what they meant was almost impossible. Nothing was concrete- it was all vague, disjointed, and nonsensical.

He would never be able to pinpoint the exact time that he came to full awareness, for it happened so gradually, but eventually his fuzzy, confused brain began to recognize the messages his eyes were sending him:

Peach colored walls, a white acoustic ceiling, a plastic-framed print of a beach scene, fluorescent lights shining just above his head, and a window with it's multicolored, striped curtains pulled closed that blocked out most, but not all of the sunlight and allowed for a couple of rogue rays of light to stream through the cracks.

All of this he took in as he tried to grasp onto the meaning of it all. He was in a bed, that much he was certain of and it was no motel bed for it had rails on the side, and with just his eyes he traced a thin tube snaking up from under his sheet towards a clear plastic bag hanging from a pole beside him, dripping slowly into the tube.

_IV?... Hospital._ The words popped into his head and that was the first thing to make any kind of sense to him as the room he was in had that anti-septic smell and impersonal feel to it that screamed of a medical institution.

But, now that he understood a little bit of where he was, the how, why and when he ended up there was still not something he could recall.

His eyes roamed around the room again, trying to force his muzzy brain to work. He was missing something...or someone?

_Dean_

Yeah...he'd ask Dean what the hell happened to him as soon as he came back- he probably went out to get a coffee or something like that. He himself knew full well how sitting around a hospital room watching someone sleep could get pretty tedious, so he couldn't really blame his brother for not being there the instant he woke up. Yet still- he could feel a knot of tension building in his stomach that he couldn't explain away. He really didn't like not being able to piece together anything coherently nor the fuzzy, creepy feeling he had snaking into his head and he just hoped Dean would turn up soon to explain everything.

So, he waited for Dean, expecting him to come bounding into his room at any moment, a coffee cup in one hand and a smarmy retort rolling off of his tongue. But it wasn't long before he was overcome with a deep, gut-wrenching malaise. He felt weaker than he had ever felt before in his life and it was frustrating how even turning his head to the side was a physical challenge. He tried to stay awake for Dean's eventual arrival, but the irresistible pull of sleep gripped him quickly and he was closing his eyes and welcoming oblivion again within moments.

OOOOOOO

Coming to again, Sam knew that quite some time must have passed since the curtains that once could barely hold back the brightness of the sun were now shrouded in darkness and the only light coming into the room was from the hallway outside the open door.

He blinked, trying to fight the urge to fall back asleep again then searched the room for Dean- Surely he'd be back by now.

But, Sam was still alone in the room.

In fact, he hadn't noticed it the last time he woke up, but there was no sign that Dean had ever been in the room. Sam was quite familiar with the cone of destruction his brother left wherever they went, but here were no candy wrappers, no discarded fast-food bags sitting on the table, no half finished soda cups lying about and he came to the dreaded realization that Dean may not have been in this room at all.

Did that mean he was hurt too? Was he lying somewhere in this hospital as well wondering where the hell Sam was?

He struggled to push himself up- his need to find his lost brother trumping the shaking and weakness that had invaded his arms as he tried to perform the simple task, but his efforts only got him about half way up before his muscles completely gave out and he was falling against the pillow once again. He panted for breath, exhausted, frustrated and confused by his failure.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he even find the strength to get out of bed?

He needed answers and he needed to find Dean. He hated to admit it, but he was going to need some help.

Pulling his hand up, he reached for the nurse's call button built into the railing of his bed, but froze the moment he got a good look at it.

The hand he was looking at was surely not his own- it couldn't be- It was too bony, the skin too pale, too thin. Further examination revealed that it wasn't just his hand, but his whole arm was foreign to him. The muscular arm that he was used to seeing everyday of his life was gone, replaced by a thin, stick-like limb with a sharp, jutting wrist and elbow.

His heart-rate involuntarily picked up as he reached for the blanket covering him and pulled it back. The sight it revealed was no less shocking than his arm and he felt his breath being swept away by it. His legs were just as thin as his arms, almost skeletal with nearly no muscle tone, his protruding knees almost wider in circumference than his thighs.

This was not his body, he thought in disbelief. Had he been switched with someone else's body again like that kid, Gary had a couple of years ago? It had to be something like that- one doesn't just fall asleep one day and wake up the next 60 lbs lighter without there being some kind of supernatural crap going on.

He needed to find Dean right now, but getting this spindly, frail body to obey his commands wasn't getting him anywhere and he was already feeling weakened and dizzy not only by his physical state but by the shock of it all. Laying back on the pillow, nearly out of breath and quickly losing what little strength he still had left in him, Sam reached again for the call button, this time mashing it repeatedly-someone needed to tell him what the hell was happening to him right now.

He waited for what felt like an eternity Before he heard a voice call out from the down the hall.

"Hey, Pepper- can you go check on 'sleeping beauty'? His call light just came on."

"Must be a glitch." He heard a woman respond. "I'll go check it out."

Footsteps echoed down the hall until a sillouetted figure appeared in the doorway and flicked on the light, unconcerned that she might wake the patient inside.

She crossed over to Sam as he lie in the bed without really paying much attention to him nor the disturbed bedsheets covering him, but when she bent over the check the call button for signs that it was malfunctioning, she gasped, nearly shrieking when his hand clamped down on her wrist.

"Oh my dear God!" She exclaimed, her shocked and fear-filled eyes locking onto his.

"Please..." He spoke weakly, his voice coarse from disuse and barely audible. "Help me."

OOOOOOO

Sam's room was soon swarmed and filled with a flurry of activity as doctors, nurses and aides came in and out. There were too many of them for him to keep track of so he didn't even try to learn any of their names when they introduced themselves. However, the first nurse that had entered his room, a thin, dark-haired woman somewhere in her mid to late thirties wearing pink, floral patterned scrubs, had been the only one that remained the whole time and even shooed many of the others that had no need to be there away.

His awakening had apparently caused quite a stir. There was hushed talk inside and outside of his room that he could only catch snatches of. There were words bandied about like 'miracle' and a general disbelief amongst the staff. He heard one nurse mention 'vegetative state', but he heard and understood little else, it was all still too confusing to process.

Assessments were made and questions were asked that he tried to answer: His name was Sam Winchester, the president was Barack Obama, he was 28 years old and so on and so forth, but he couldn't help notice some of the odd looks those asking the questions gave him and their reactions. They made him uneasy and only further exasperated his confusion.

He was poked, prodded, had lights shown in his eyes and his reflexes were tested what felt like every couple of minutes by one person after another. It was all very overwhelming and it was hard to keep up with everything happening around or to him and all he could hold on to was the hope that someone could explain where his brother was- if he was okay or not.

However, asking the questions he needed answers for was almost impossible since he had practically no voice and in the process of answering all of the questions the doctors had been asking him, it had almost completely given out. It took so much effort to get any words out that the few questions he actually managed to verbalize either went unheard, misunderstood or dismissed with a 'we'll explain everything later.' It was more than a little frustrating to be fussed over so without anyone really acknowledging that he was more than just a body filling a bed and not an actual human being. He felt more like a curiosity or an object for everyone to puzzle over and he wanted nothing more for them all to either go away or tell him plainly what was going on.

The nurse that had stayed with him, hovered nearby and he turned his head towards her. She seemed to sense that he wanted her attention, for she met his beseeching eyes. He tried to speak, but his voice had totally given out by then and he was left with resorting to pleading with his eyes alone: _Please tell them to go away...tell me what's happening._

She must have understood because when she turned her eyes away from him, she stalked over to the two doctors that had been called in to assess his condition, interrupting their animated, yet quiet conversation.

"Doctors, I think he's has had enough and is obviously exhausted. He needs his rest and he can't get that with everyone in here."

The doctors both turned to look at Sam. The younger of the two doctors looked somewhat abashed, realizing that they had discussing him as if he wasn't laying right beside them. However, the older doctor, a grey-headed man with thick glasses and a portly belly, didn't seem to take the suggestion that they needed to leave from a subordinate very well and whirled on the nurse.

"Dr. Stinson and I haven't finished our assessment of the patient." He huffed.

"Please, Dr. Morse. I think every test that we can do right now to the poor man had already been done tonight."

"Excuse me? Are you a doctor, Ms. Conway?" He asked incredulously, as if taken aback by anyone questioning his judgment.

To her credit, the nurse didn't back down. "No, I'm not. But I know enough about patient care to see when a man needs peace and quiet."

Dr. Morse narrowed his eyes towards the nurse, his face reddening, but the nurse's argument was as solid as a brick wall and a moment later, he gave up in defeat, throwing up his hands. "Fine. Since you seem to know so much more about how to treat a patient than I do, then we'll just leave. But, first thing tomorrow I'm having the patient transferred to county for further testing, so have him ready to go by then, understood?"

She nodded, but her ire towards the doctor's attitude had obviously set her on edge. "Of course, Doctor." She agreed almost with a sneer and a moment later, Dr. Morse was dragging the younger doctor with him out the door, grumbling about 'the audacity of some people.'

"Alright" Sam's hero nurse, come to rescue him from the crowd of people milling about spoke up, her voice raising above the din. "Show's over, people. Go back to work- This man isn't the only patient that needs tending to."

She shooed the rest of the hangers-on out of the room with a wave of her hands and soon the room was empty save for Sam and the nurse. He felt a wash of gratitude come over him towards her, thankful that the hub-bub had died down.

"Well-" She turned to him and bent over, pulling the blanket up for him. "Sorry about all of that, but you're a bit of a special case and news travels fast. No one was expecting you to wake up like this... but no matter- we can talk about it more in the morning before the doctor comes back. So, I guess I'll make myself scarce as well so you can get some sleep."

She was all set to turn and leave when Sam reached out and grabbed her hand before she could go.

_Stay,_ he mouthed.

"Sure. What is it you need, Mr. Winchester?"

He shook his head weakly, licked his lips and concentrated on finding enough energy and air to speak. "Sam...my name is Sam."

She had to bend close to his face in order to hear him, but she understood him well enough. "Sam?... You want me to call you, Sam?"

He nodded.

"Alright, Sam- what can I do for you?"

Sam was certain he couldn't trust his voice to be heard any longer, so he made a motion with his hands indicating his need for a pen and paper. She caught on well enough and dug through the bedside table for a pad of paper before pulling a pen out of her shirt pocket and handing them both over to him.

The pen felt awkward in his hands and he was still convinced that he hadn't woken up in the right body, but who would believe him besides Dean and Bobby? God, he needed to find them, but also he needed some answers and he hoped this nurse would be able to help him with that.

Sam began to write, his words formed by a series of scratchy and wobbly letters so unlike his usual flowing script, but he managed to make them legible enough to be understood.

_Where am I? _He wrote first.

"You're at Shady Oaks nursing home in Chicago."

The answer to his question perplexed him almost as much as waking up in a strange body did. What the hell could he be doing in a nursing home? And what was he doing in Chicago?

"I know...you're not exactly the typical patient we get here, but you've been asleep for a very long time, Sam. I suppose it was felt for the best that you be placed here where you could be looked after and cared for."

Just how long had he been asleep? he wondered and that was the next question he wrote.

The nurse seemed reluctant to answer. "Let's just say that it's been a very long time, but we can talk more about it when you're feeling better- you should get some rest..."

Sam grew impatient by her stalling and underlined the question two times as a way of demanding the answer.

She pursed her lips then responded by asking him as question of her own. "What year do you think it is, Sam?"

_2011, _he wrote.

"Well..." She paused, plainly unsure if she should answer truthfully, but she continued anyway after swallowing hard. "It's now 2021."

"What?" He squeaked out in surprise and disbelief. She had to be joking and he didn't find it particularly funny, but one look in her eyes told him that she really was telling him the truth.

"I'm sorry...I didn't want to be the one that told you that. I know... it's got to be a lot to take in."

That was a huge understatement. Ten years? _Ten years?_

His head spun and he felt dizzy, he closed his eyes hoping it would help stop the room from spinning around him.

Vaguely, he was aware of a hand pressing into his chest and a voice telling him to breathe- to relax- but how could he?

Ten years gone. So much could happen in that amount of time- Dean wouldn't just leave him in this place that long unless..._ unless..._

Sam felt sweat break out on his forehead as his lungs constricted painfully.

Is that why Dean wasn't there? Had something terrible happened to him while he slept the years away?... Could he be dead?

That last question drove all other thoughts from his head and he couldn't catch his breath or control the thundering in his chest as he fell into the grips of a searing panic.

Sam had no awareness after that. He never heard the shouts of the nurse as she called out for help nor felt the prick of the needle as it punctured his skin and delivered a powerful dose of sedative. All he knew after that was darkness.

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thanks to everyone that has read, favorited, alerted and reviewed this story so far. I really appreciate the feedback and seeing as how your reviews are the only payment I get for writing, you all make me feel rich. I hope you enjoy this next chapter and please keep the comments coming! :D**_

**Part II**

Sam woke with a start, sweat causing the sheets around his legs to cling to his bare skin and tangle him up. He glanced about him and realized grimly that he was still in the same peach-colored room he had been in before, was in the same bed and in the same strange body, disappointed that it all hadn't been some kind of fevered dream.

However, the nightmare he had just woken from, the one that had him in its grip only moments before, was still fresh in his mind.

He could still hear the echoing screams of his brother as Sam was held back by the white-eyed demon, unable to stop the hellhounds that tore into his flesh and ripped him apart in front of his eyes. He could still see Dean's lifeless stare, feel the warm blood seeping through his finger and remember the utter devastation and sense of failure that washed over him. He hadn't saved Dean as he had promised- he had let him down. He was dead and it was his fault...

Sam realized after a few moments of disorientation, that the nightmare wasn't a dream at all- it was a memory and as he strained to remember it all, he also recalled the surprise of seeing Dean again months after that, brought back from Hell...saved by an angel.

_Castiel..._

Castiel had dragged Dean from Hell and brought him back and that had been nearly two years ago- or at least two years not counting the ten he had spent oblivious to the rest of the world.

That meant that Dean could still be alive. He had no evidence to suggest that he wasn't- he could still be out there somewhere. Perhaps he was just laying low or hiding out for some reason. There was no reason for him to over-react like he had when his nurse told him he had been in a coma all these years- he had to believe he could find him.

He searched his mind, struggling to recall what his last memory was before waking up, but he couldn't pinpoint it exactly-everything was muddy and unclear, like trying to remember the details of a dream before they faded away into oblivion.

"Hey...look who's awake." He was driven away from his muddled thoughts by a voice from his door and he turned, recognizing the same nurse that had explained a little of his current predicament before the world had been turned upside down for him. He still could not wrap his mind around the idea that he had spent the last ten years lying in a hospital bed- it was all too unbelievable.

"How are you feeling this morning?" She asked, obviously trying hard to sound cheerful. He didn't really answer, only shrugged a little as he watched her cross the floor towards him, carrying a plastic IV bag filled with an unidentifiable yellowish-white liquid. She walked around the bed and hung the bag up on the IV pole next to the clear bag.

"What is that?" Sam tested his voice, it croaked and cracked, but he was satisfied that it was coming back enough now for him to be heard and understood without having to resort to writing it all down.

The nurse gave him a bright, if not somewhat forced smile. "Good to hear your voice is coming back. It might take a while for those vocal cords to get used to being used again, but it should get easier for you to talk soon. Anyway, I thought you might need some breakfast before Dr. Morse comes back to see you off."

"That's breakfast?"

"Yeah...I know- it can't beat bacon and eggs, but with your feeding tube still in, you'll have to keep taking this formula until the doctor decides to have it removed. Until then, you won't be able to take in anything by mouth."

_Feeding tube? _He raised his eyebrows. He hadn't even realised he had one and Sam grimaced a little at that thought. But when she mentioned bacon and eggs, he could feel his stomach rumble in hunger and his mouth water. However, as soon as she raised his bed then pulled down his blanket and opened up the front flap of the hospital gown he was wearing, all thoughts of food went out the window.

This new, weaker version of his body was still a shock to see. With protruding ribs, hipbones and muscles emaciated and atrophied from years of disuse, he didn't think he could ever get used to the idea that this was actually his own body, but the tattoo etched into his chest that he and Dean both sported was proof positive that this was indeed his.

The worst part of what he was seeing though was seeing the plastic tube sticking out from his abdomen and watching as the nurse connected that tube to the one leading from the bag.

She was quick and professional as she set about the task, but even still, Sam felt his cheeks color in shame at having his body exposed like this and from the humiliation of being so helpless that he couldn't even feed himself. All the while the nurse kept speaking to him, trying to fill in some of the awkwardness with some unnecessary, one-sided conversation.

"I wasn't sure if you would remember me from last night, but my name is Pepper. I know...it's kind of a silly name, but my given name is actually Patricia and when I was little my Dad always called me 'Peppermint Patty'. By the time I was ten, it had been shortened to 'Pepper' and I guess it just kinda stuck. Pretty soon that's what everyone called me... I never really like the name Patricia anyway, so I decided to just go with it.." She finished inserting the tube and Sam watched with nauseating fascination as the liquid began to flow from the bag and directly into his gut.

"There- That should just about do it. " After said asshe closed up his gown once again and pulled the blanket back up. She gave him a sympathetic and knowing squeeze on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The tube won't stay in forever and pretty soon you'll be eating normally again. Just give it some time, Sam. No one who's been in a coma as long as you can just wake up one day and head out the door the next. It's gonna take time... but you'll get there. You'll get your strength back."

Even with all of her assurances, Sam had a hard time convincing himself that he could ever get this frail frame to fill out into the same body he was used to, but he knew that he was going to have to push himself harder than ever before to get in shape again and be of any use to his brother once he found him. He wasn't prepared yet to even entertain the thought he wasn't out there somewhere and thinking of Dean, Sam turned toward the nurse again.

"Pepper?"

"Yes?"

"Has anyone tried to contact my family yet?"

She was silent for a heartbeat as if hesitant to give him any more bad news, especially after his reaction to informing him that he had been in a coma for ten years the previous night, but to her credit she answered plainly and truthfully, without any unwanted platitudes. "I'm sorry, Sam. But, there isn't any next of kin listed in your records. We didn't even know your real name until you woke up- you've been a 'John Doe' all of these years."

Sam knitted his brows in confusion. "What?...How?...How did I end up here then? Who brought me in?"

"I don't know all of the details, but your medical record says that you were admitted to County General after you were found unconscious in one of the city parks and after it looked like you wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, you were transferred to our facility here at Shady Oaks. You've been a pretty big mystery since then and no one was ever able to locate any of your family. Rumor has it that the police scoured missing persons reports, sent out fliers and even ran your DNA and fingerprints, but came up with absolutely nothing- it was like you never existed." She shook her head. "It's pretty weird."

Sam wasn't too surprised that they hadn't found anything out about him. His whole life, from the time he was a baby onwards had been spent living under the radar and ever since he and Dean started hunting together again, he had gone to great lengths to cover tracks and leave nothing behind, even going so far as to hack into Stanford and the county registrar's office in Lawrence to delete all of his and Dean's records after their run-in with the FBI and Agent Hendrickson.

Yet still, he was left with more questions than ever now. How did he end up in Chicago in the first place and had Dean been with him? What caused him to fall into a ten-year coma? And most importantly of all: where was Dean?

"Didn't anyone ever come and visit me all this time?"

She shook her head sympathetically. "Sorry. I've been working here for over a decade and I never heard of or saw anyone come in and out of your room except for us nurses and occasionally, the doctors."

"Really? No one?"

"Perhaps your friends and family have been looking for you all this time, but couldn't track you down?" She suggested then added, "If you give me their names and addresses maybe I can try to look them up." She offered.

Sam shook his head, his mind a swirling mixture of confusion and conflicting thoughts as he tried to sort things out.

"That's okay...I'll try to reach them myself." He answered distractedly. He doubted she would be able to track Dean down since he had no permanent address, didn't pay taxes and changed phone numbers almost as often as he changed his socks. But, maybe she was right about one thing...what if Dean had been trying to find him all this time and just hadn't been able to find him either. That also meant that there was a good possiblity that he thought Sam was dead and had given up searching for him.

But.. if that was true, wouldn't Cas have been able to find him?

No...that's right...the angelic sygils. Cas had carved them into he and Dean's ribs and those would have shielded the angel from finding him.

He was back to sqaure one again and Sam came to the realization that it would be up to him to reach out to his brother and let him know he was still alive.

Sam decided that his search for answers would have to start with him and what he could remember, but his mind was like a solid block of Swiss cheese: full of holes. If only he could remember clearly what his last memory was before waking up...

"Well," Pepper started apologetically, interrupting his quiet, but fretful musings. "My shift is almost over and Dr. Morse will be here soon. He wants to transfer you to County General, so I don't know if I'll be seeing you again, but it was nice meeting you, Sam. Sorry I wasn't able to help you out more, but I hope you'll be able to get a hold of your family."

As soon as she left, Sam used what was left of his flagging energy to reach over and grab the phone. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to start his search for Dean somewhere.

Over the course of the next half-hour he must have dialed every single phone number of Dean's that he could think of-even some of Dad's old numbers- but all of them turned out to be either disconnected or wrong numbers. After exhausting all of the ways could remember to contact Dean, he tried each of Bobby's numbers as well, but those too were no longer in service.

When it became clear that he wasn't going to be able to reach either Dean or Bobby by phone, he resorted to trying to contact Castiel as well, closing his eyes and praying quietly out loud for him to come and give him some answers. "Castiel...if you can hear me...please...I could really use your help right now."

Nothing happened, even when he tried again, practically begging the angel to respond.

Alone and running out of options, Sam let his frustration dissolve into weariness. Too tired to think and sort things out any longer, his weak body demanded rest and he was powerless to overrule it any further. Allowing his eyes to sink closed, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

OOOOOOOO

As promised by Pepper, Dr. Morse arrived a couple of hours after she left, waking Sam as he barked orders to the staff. Soon after that, he found himself the center of activity as he was loaded up and shuffled onto a waiting ambulance.

Here and there he caught little snatches of what life was like now outside of the walls of his nursing home room. People wore outrageously hideous clothing now- women tended to go for boisterous, neon colors with loose fitting, shapeless shirts and many of the younger men followed a trend of sporting pencil-thin mustaches and long, bushy mutton chops. Seeing how things had changed left Sam feeling as though he was trapped in a time warp, stuck in the past while the rest of the world moved past him at the speed of light.

Once at the hospital, Dr. Morse went to work on Sam almost immediately, sending him out for MRIs, CT scans, X-rays, blood-work, EEGs and a whole host of other tests he's be hard pressed to identify, leaving him exhausted and irritable by the end of the day.

Adding to his discomfort at being in the hospital and unable to do much more than lie there helplessly much less get up and leave, the paunchy Dr. Morse who was charged with his care, despite his apparent thouroughness, would never go into Sam's book as one of the most personable people he had ever met. He eyed Sam more like a scientist fascinated by a lab rat spinning in its wheel than he did as a patient, which left Sam with an uneasy feeling whenever the doctor came anywhere near him.

The only thing that made that first night's stay bearable in the county hospital under the hawk-like presence of Dr. Morse was Pepper. He had been dragged through so many medical tests by the time he was wheeled back to his room that he could barely keep his eyes open and as soon as he had been helped back to his bed, he fell fast asleep. However, when he woke up though, a friendly face greeted him.

"Hi, Sam. Remember me?" She asked.

"Pepper?" He asked, wondering what she was doing there.

She grinned. "Good to see that I made enough of an impression on you to remember my name." She chuckled somewhat nervously then cleared her throat in an attempt to shoo away some of the awkwardness.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?" He asked. She didn't really know him from Adam, why would she want to see him again?

"Well...I dropped by because...well...this gonna sound kinda weird, but I haven't been able to get you off my mind, ya know? I couldn't sleep thinking about how you didn't have anyone around to help you adjust to all of this and I wanted to help. I mean...that's kinda been my job since you came to the nursing home...taking care of you..." She cleared her throat, her face blushing. "Anyway...I have this old tablet that I don't use anymore and I thought you might get some use out of it...ya know...to help you catch up on some of things you've been missing out on all these years."

She walked over to his bed and handed him the thin gadget and at first he mistook it for just a light, paper-thin square of transparent plastic that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. There didn't seem to be any 'on' button that he could find, but when Pepper reached over and waved a hand over the screen, it came to life, a screen forming in the center.

"Sorry... I forgot it was calibrated to my fingerprints. Here...I'll fix it so you can work it." She took the device back from him and started tapping away at the screen. When she was finished a moment later, she handed it back to him. "There...just touch the screen and it should recognize you now."

Sam did as he was instructed and the device immediately started to work for him as well and even after just a few minutes of fiddling with it, he was amazed at the speed and efficiency of it-it was far better than any computer he had ever used before.

"Thanks...this thing is incredible" He looked up at her gratefully. "You didn't have to do this."

"It's no problem, like I said, the thing is old and I'm sorry it's so slow."

"Slow?" He shook his head. "I'd love to see what you consider 'fast'."

"Well...I know you must be tired, so I'll get going..." She turned and started to walk towards the door.

"Pepper, wait." He called out to her before her hand could reach for the door knob. A sudden idea came to him, but he would need her help. "Do you think you could do something for me?"

"Sure, Sam. Anything."

OOOOOOOO

"When I said I would do anything, I didn't think it would be anything like this." Pepper complained as she came back into the room, but she had a sly, little smile growing on her face. "But then again, no one ever accused me of being a stickler for stupid rules and who can say 'no' to that lost-little-puppy-dog face of yours."

"Were you able to get it?" He asked.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out another tablet device, this one with the words 'Property of Cook County General Hospital' labeled on it's casing. "It wasn't easy, but good thing my friend Gail works here as a shift nurse and was able to get it." She grinned as she walked back over to him and took a seat next to his bed and handed it over to him. "All of your records from the last ten years and every test and diagnostic that's been done on you since you woke up."

He gave he his most appreciative grin. "Thanks for sticking your neck out like this. You could have said 'no' and I wouldn't have blamed you."

She shook her head. "It was nothing. Besides, if I had been in your shoes and woke up to find ten years of my life missing, I'd want answers too."

"Will I be able to work this thing?" He asked before he attempted to touch it, remembering how the other tablet only worked when it recognized it's owner's fingerprints.

"Yeah...don't worry. Gail set it to 'open' mode, so it should work for anybody."

He nodded and started working at the gadget right away, eager to find out more about what had been done to him the last ten years. He started at the beginning, going back to his admittance to the hospital in April of 2011. However, after just a few minutes of flipping through the digital pages, he was disappointed by how little was actually in there. All of his tests from his first admission to the hospital revealed no trauma, no head injury and no toxicology results that could give the doctors any clue as to why he was in an unresponsive state. Even his EEG back then had shown that he wasn't brain dead, but merely in a coma.

There was one thing however that struck him as odd. None of his chest x-rays had ever come out as abnormal as he would have expected thanks to Cas's angel shielding when Lucifer and Michael had been breathing down their necks. Perhaps it was just a glitch or something that had been overlooked...he couldn't say, but it did puzzle him.

He flipped ahead, skipping through years of entries that covered his day to day care in the nursing home until he came to the last few pages and the reports recently put into his records over the last few days. His brain scans were all normal, X-rays normal, blood-work normal and just about everything else Dr. Morse had put him through revealed little more than the fact that his muscles had atrophied over the years. He was an unequivocal medical mystery- even to himself, he thought bitterly.

"Well, that wasn't very helpful." He muttered, shutting off the device and handing it back to Pepper.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"It's not your fault, but hey...at least I think Dr. Morse is out of tests to run on me and should have an interesting paper he can publish about his 'mystery case'."

Pepper snort derisively.

"I take it you like him about as much as I do." He noted.

She agreed with a nod of her head. "That's putting it mildly."

"Why? He may be an asshole, but at least he's thorough."

"He may be that, Sam, but..." She paused as if considering whether or not she should continue.

"But what?" He prodded.

"Dr. Morse took over your case only a few weeks ago after your first doctor, Dr. Richardson retired. He made it pretty clear that he believed that the state was wasting its money with your continual treatment when it appeared as if you would never wake up again- he was always saying how it was 'cruel to let you linger on'..."

"He said that?"

"Yeah... and I hate to repeat gossip, but there was a rumor going around that he was going to ask the court to be declared your legal guardian so he could have your feeding tube removed."

Sam fought back a chill. "He wanted to let me starve to death? He can't do that."

"Laws have changed in the past ten years, Sam." She pointed out, but that did little to ease the butterflies in his stomach. "I don't know though, maybe that's what woke you up..." She shrugged. "What if somewhere deep in that brain of yours, you heard or picked up on what he wanted to do to you and that triggered something inside and brought you around... I'm just guessing here, but I don't have any other explanation for your sudden recovery and I've never been a firm believer in miracles."

Sam's creepy feelings about the doctor overseeing his care were more than confirmed now and his need to escape the hospital and find his brother grew by leaps and bounds.

Pepper didn't stay much longer after that and as soon as she was gone, he powered up the little tablet she had left him and started in on his search for Dean.

The computer tablet Pepper had given him was a technological wonder, but after a few hours of digging through records, even it was failing to give him the results he was hoping for. Unsurprisingly, there was next to nothing he could find on Dean and the last bit of hope he had in finding him through public databases fled when he found that the title for the Impala had been sold nearly four years ago and only listed the new owner, not any previous ones .

Things got even worse when Sam decided to go a different route and started a search out on Bobby. Simply typing in the name of Bobby's salvage yard yielded a result that took his breath away and twisted his stomach into knots.

There on the screen was an obituary in the local Sioux Falls newspaper from 2014 that left a gaping fissure within his chest as he read the headline:

_Robert 'Bobby' Singer (December 15, 1950- August 20, 2014) Local salvage yard and auto repair shop owner passed away Friday night due to a sudden heart attack..._

Sam couldn't bring himself to read the rest or to do much more than stare out of his window until the sun set and he had nothing but darkness to look at, quietly remembering the man that had been as much of a father to him as his real dad had been. He tried to wrap his head around it all, but couldn't. Bobby had always seemed indestructible to him- it was hard to believe that he was gone and his heart felt as though it might tear into a million pieces.

Sam didn't even bother with trying to search the computer tablet for any more leads on Dean's whereabouts that day- too afraid he might find something even worse than learning about Bobby's death and he didn't think he could handle it if he did.

Once again confusion, malaise and despondency gripped Sam tight and wouldn't let go. All seemed hopeless- He didn't know where else to look for Dean while still confined to his bed and too weak to do much more than sit up. And now, with Bobby gone and Castiel a continual no-show, he had no one else to turn to.

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Dr. Morse came back that same afternoon and informed Sam rather dispassionately of his plan to have his feeding tube removed so he could start eating food on his own again.

"You'll be allowed liquids for the first few days, then we can see about starting you out on some soft, solid food."

Sam tried to mask his distrust of the doctor, but couldn't help but give him the stink eye. _At least you won't get the satisfaction of watching me starve to death. _He thought to himself bitterly.

The doctor either ignored his reproachful glare or was oblivious to Sam's hostile feelings towards him and left him shortly after he reassessed Sam's condition. The doctor's abrupt and impersonal bedside manner, while it chafed at Sam, only served to fuel his desire to get out of the hospital sooner rather than later and after the disappointment searching for his brother had been on the computer and the heartbreaking news of Bobby's death , he knew that the only way he was ever going to find Dean would be for him to get his boots on the ground and physically track him down. Yet all the while a little voice coming from the back of his mind kept creeping in unwanted: W_hat if Dean had given up on you? What if he couldn't bear the burden of taking care of me and abandoned me?_

Sam had to physcially shake his head in order to chase those grim and demoralizing thoughts from his mind. It would be so unlike Dean to just up and leave him and he had to hold onto the hope that Dean could simply not find him.

He was still weak as a kitten, but everyday he got a little stronger. Besides the physical therapy sessions he was sent to for almost two hours each day, he went right to work as soon as he got back to his room with continuing his exercises- stretching and flexing his legs and arms, hoping to strengthen them enough for him to get out of bed and flee the hospital and the clutches of the test-happy, Dr. Morse.

Also, after the feeding tube was removed and he was allowed to start eating again, Sam found that he getting better even faster without it and he promised himself he would never take the ability to taste, chew and swallow his food for granted ever again. Just having the feeling of having something in his stomach was a boost to his flagging morale and energy levels. His stamina began to improve as well after he could start eating again and whereas before he could only stay awake for a couple of hours at a time before fatigue overcame him, by the end of his first week he was staying alert for almost five or six hours at a stretch.

Little by little he felt like he was getting some of the old Sam back and as soon as he felt like he was strong enough to not fall over when he stood, he took his first few steps out of bed, making it all of the way to the bathroom on his own. It was a small achievement, but it meant a great deal to him to be able to get somewhere under his own power and he wanted- no- needed to be able to perform his own grooming tasks if he ever wanted to get out of this damned hospital.

He reached over and flicked on the light then nearly fell over when he got a good look at his face in the mirror. It hadn't occurred to him before to ask for a mirror since he didn't want to appear vain and besides, he had other more import things on his mind than gazing at his reflection. But this image was shocking, even though he should have known he would look different after ten years, it was still a mighty blow.

He stared at the unfamiliar face- at the deep-set eyes ringed with crows feet, the pale, hollowed-out cheeks and the week's worth of scraggly beard growth peppered with flecks of grey. So different did he appear to himself that at first glance he thought that a stranger had stepped into the room with him.

However, slowly he began to recognize some of the features of his face- a mole here, a freckle there and even a small scar he could remember getting from a pissed-off spirit when he was sixteen. This was his new face- his new reality and there wasn't much he could do about it...

That is except for one thing...

OOOOOOOO

"Sam?" He heard his name being called from outside of the bathroom and he would have turned and answered her, but he was presently occupied.

He had failed to close the bathroom door, so he wasn't shocked when out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of dark hair poke inside. He turned to see Pepper grinning at him in amusement, not at all surprised to see her in his room. Over the last week, she had been his one and only regular visitor and while he didn't understand why she had such an interest in him, he nonetheless had come to look forward to seeing her.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Trying to shave." He answered plainly, somewhat embarrassed and muffling his words a bit as he tried to keep some of the shaving cream he had found in the cabinet on his face. He'd only managed to get a couple of swipes of the razor across his bristly face and the task had turned out to be far harder than he had expected it to as he had to keep one hand on the edge of the sink in order to keep his legs from becoming wobbly.

"I see that, but you are gonna cut yourself to smithereens." She tsk'd then came closer to him, holding out her hand in a gesture that brokered no arguments. "Here, gimme that."

"I can do this." He insisted, but she wasn't about to back down.

"Sam..." She sighed. "Just who do you think has been doing this for you all these years, huh? Just let me help you."

He sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this and handed over the razor.

"Now sit before you fall." She ordered, pointing towards the lidded toilet. Sam obeyed somewhat peevishly and took a seat, trying not to roll his eyes and failing.

Pepper was mostly quiet as she concentrated on the job, her brown eyes focusing on removing the stubble that covered his face, but every so often her eyes would meet his for the briefest of seconds, leaving Sam with a stirring inside that he hadn't felt in a long time. He had to admit that she was pretty- maybe not knock-out gorgeous like the kinds of girls Dean went after and she was older than any woman he had ever been attracted to, but then again, he had to remind himself that he probably about the same age as she was now. However, she had her own special brand of attractiveness- she didn't wear the garish clothes that many of the other women he had seen from this time did, usually donning instead a tasteful sweater and pair of jeans. She also only wore a smattering of make-up that enhanced rather than over-powered her natural features, a quality Sam admired in women.

But it wasn't so much her looks that he liked. She had kind eyes and a gentleness that went beyond just doing her job and she was the only person he had made any kind of connection with since waking up in this strange, new world he was stuck in. Sam wasn't sure if it was just the fascination of trying to get to know the man she had seen everyday as 'John Doe' for years that brought her back each day or if there was something more. It was too soon to tell, but one thing was certain- he was glad she was there.

"There." She said as she wiped his face clean with a cloth when she was finished. "You're looking better already." Sam grabbed hold of the sink and used it as leverage to pull himself up and get a look at her handiwork in the mirror.

He couldn't help but grin a little at his cleaner face. "Looks more like me now."

"I never thought you were a beard guy. You look much better without all that wool." She quipped then reached up and ruffled his hair. "Now, what about this mop of yours? I have some skills with scissors too."

"Actually...It's not too bad- a little shorter than I'm used to, but it'll grow."

"You never know." She shrugged. "A good, clean haircut could make you feel like a new man."

Sam felt his face drop at that off-hand comment, taken aback a little by how much it hit him in the gut. He didn't want to be a 'new man' he wanted to be his old self- to get his life back, but finding it was frustratingly slow even if he was making progress.

"I'm sorry...did I say something wrong?" Pepper asked, seeing his shoulders slump.

He shook his head. "No...no- it's okay." He sighed, not wanting her to think that she had caused him any grief, but he suddenly had a desire to be alone so he could sort through his emotions. "I'm sorry, Pepper, but I'm kinda tired..."

"Hey, no worries, Sam." She said. "You want me to help you back to bed?"

He shook his head. "Nah...I'll make it...But, thanks anyway...ya know...for everything."

"Sure." She nodded. "I better get going anyway- my shift starts pretty soon."

Pepper was gone soon after than and Sam shuffled his way back to bed, exhausted. It wouldn't take long for sleep to find him that night, but he was chased by dreams that robbed him of any true rest.

OOOOOOO

Sam's swiss cheese memory also started to come back to him incrementally. He had a dream one night of he and Dean riding inside of the Impala with the skyline of Chicago coming at them through the windshield and when he woke, it had triggered new memories to surface.

He could recall now what had brought them to Chicago. It was a hunt- of that he was certain- but what it was exactly they had been after was fuzzy, he only knew that people had been disappearing and they had tracked the culprit down to a warehouse near the docks by Lake Michigan. He could also remember now Dean's scary quietness since learning that Crowley was still alive from the creature that called herself 'the mother' and his own sinking suspicion that Cas might have had something to do with that, though he had still yet to voice those concerns out loud to his brother.

_"Watch yourself and stick to the plan. No going off-script with this one, got it?"_ He recalled Dean saying as they gathered supplies from the trunk.

He and Dean split up after that, Sam taking the stairs to the upper floors while Dean searched the lower ones. Threading his way through the abandoned corridors of the building, Sam had been on high alert, his flashlight darting about in tandem with his gun as he searched. He could still smell the scent of the water nearby, the mustiness of the walls and the faint, yet distinct waft of death and decay that hung in the air, ratcheting up a sense of wariness and unease through his gut. He didn't like being split up like that, but there was also a sense of urgency to their mission, that they were trying to find someone or something soon before anyone else got hurt.

There was an open door at the end of the hallway he treaded carefully down and his last memory before all went black was of crossing its threshold. What happened to him after that he couldn't say and it was anybody's guess what happened to Dean as well. He could only hope and pray that whatever had gotten to him hadn't gotten to his brother as well.

Sam was unwilling and unable to give in to the thought that Dean might have come to a disastrous fate though and his search was still on for his absent brother. He still had hope that he would be strong enough to leave the hospital and despite his loneliness and stifled feelings of abandonment, he knew that Dean wouldn't have given up any hope that he would wake up any more than Sam would have if their positions had been reversed.

During his stay in the hospital Sam also decided to heed some of Pepper's advice and tried catching up an all that had gone on in the world while he was asleep. For the most part, he found that little had actually changed in the past ten years. Wars came and went, people still blew themselves up in the name of religion, and vapid celebrites and crooked politicians still gabbed bigger headlines than the plights of the everyday people.

It was during one of these catch-up lessons with his little tablet that Sam was surfing the web for news and stumbled across a recent article from the Chicago Tribune.

"What the Hell?" He muttered in confusion as he read through the first few sentences of the article.

_Pontiac Man Injured Saving Three Girls From Burning Church_

_Jimmy Novak, 49, a deacon with the Fellowship of Christ Church in Pontiac, IL rushed back into the burning building when it was realized that three girls, ages 11, 10 and 15 had not yet made it out._

_Witnesses to the rescue state that Novak managed to find the girls and lead them safely to an amergency exit, but became trapped himself when the burning ceiling collapsed on top of him._

_He was transported to the local hospital where his condition remains unknown at this time and the cause of the blaze remains under investigation._

Sam couldn't believe that what he was seeing and reading was true, even with the accompanied photo of a smiling Cas,-make that Jimmy- staring him in the face and he shook his head in disbelief. Had Cas somehow abandoned Jimmy as a vessel? Was that even possible? What did all of this mean?

He was still lost in confusion when Dr. Morse strolled into his room unannounced followed by three others, all wearing doctor's lab coats.

"Hello, Sam." Dr. Morse greeted him briskly. "This is Dr. Sanders, Dr. Porter and Dr. Rupenstein- specialists from the Mayo clinic. I've asked them to come and help evaluate your 'special case'. They are all very interested in learning more from you."

Over the next fifteen minutes, the three new doctors began bombarding him with questions while Dr. Morse interjected himself several times pointing out the tests he had already run on Sam and how he would make an 'excellent subject' for further case study on the effects that long-term coma had on the human body. The new docs heartily agreed with Dr. Morse and even began to discuss plans to have Sam transferred to the Mayo clinic for further testing and 'research', none of which Sam apparently had any say in.

Sam could only lie there fuming yet silent while they discussed their new 'star patient'. When they all finally left, talking excitedly amongst themselves about how and when to go about the transfer and the prospects of including Dr. Morse in on their research, Sam had come to the conclusion that his stay in the hospital had come to an end and he was going to leave that night, whether he had to crawl his way out the front doors or not.

There was no way he was going to become their next lab rat and he knew that he had to leave and find Cas/Jimmy and find out what happened to him and maybe he might know what happened to Dean as well.

Without any further delay, he started hatching a plan for his escape.

OOOOOO

Sam waited until the next morning to make his move. It would be easier to slip out unnoticed from his room during the nurses morning shift change and getting through the hallways while they were busy with people traffic would provide him with better cover. Grabbing the four-footed cane his physical therapist had given him to help provide support to his weak muscles while he walked, he quietly got out of bed and headed for the door, checking both ways down the corridor for any signs of the nurses charged with his care or for that damned Dr. Morse. Seeing that the coast was clear, he made a break for it, even though said break was about as fast as a snail's crawl.

First things first, Sam needed to find clothes and cash, neither of which he would get very far outside of the hospital walls without. He found both when he came upon the staff changing room and slipped inside unnoticed.

Now that it was between shift changes, the room was empty and quiet. Using a broken-off hypodermic needle that he had fashioned into a lock-pick the night before, he easily broke into the lockers and found a t-shirt, some jeans that sort-of fit over his gangly frame, a pair of shoes that were a size too small but would do for now and best of all, one of the foolish doctors had left his wallet in his locker which Sam quickly cleaned out before shoving the wad of cash totaling about $80 into his pocket.

After that, he made sure to lock all of the lockers back up before anyone came in and then he sneaked slowly out of the room, slipping unnoticed back into the busy halls. By this time, Sam's energy was wavering, but he was determined to not give up before he was outside the hospital walls. With people coming and going about their own business, he didn't cause anyone to pay him much mind, even though by the time he made it to the exit he was sweating profusely and panting heavily.

It wasn't until he was finally outdoors and clear of the building that he gave into the screaming constriction of his leg muscles and allowed himself to collapse in a heap onto the nearest bench facing the street just beneath the parking garage.

He sat there for a while cursing the weakness of his body even though his trek had been the longest he had made yet since his great awakening and he breathed quick and hard, gathering whatever energy he could find to formulate his next step. His initial plan hadn't really gone beyond just getting outside, but now as he sat watching the cars and people go by, he wondered at how he was going to get himself to Pontiac.

With only a little bit of cash, he might be able to catch a bus and find his way to either the nearest train or bus station and from there he could find a way to Jimmy/Cas and see what answers he could get from him, but all of that would have to wait until the shaking fatigue in his muscles quieted down.

Without the stamina to do much more than lean back against the back of the bench, Sam let his eyes close for a few minutes as the sounds of the city washed over him and the world kept on moving without him. He may have dozed there for a minute or twenty, he would never be sure, but when he felt a hand touch his shoulder, he immediately snapped awake, nearly coming out of his skin from the sudden contact.

"Sam? What the Hell?" Pepper seemed to materialize from out of nowhere before filling the space of the bench next to him. "What are you doing here? You should be inside- it's cold out here."

"Maybe I should ask you the same thing." He replied, surprised to see her.

Honestly, Sam hadn't really felt the cold after the physical feat he just pulled off, but now that she mentioned it, the t-shirt he was wearing did little to protect his exposed skin from the cool, morning air and goosebumps were springing up along his arms.

"I was just on my way to see you. I made some cookies last night and I thought you might like something that was homemade for once, but now I see that you're trying to skip out." She held up a small Tupperware container and shook it, rattling the cookies inside for him to see before she continued with her questioning. "How did you even get out here?"

Sam lifted up his cane tiredly with a small, sheepish grin. "I walked."

She shook her head the same way a mother might after finding her child had ransacked the candy jar and stolen some treats when she wasn't looking. "You never fail to impress me Sam, but you're gonna catch you death out here. C'mon, let's get you back inside." She said, grabbing hold of his arm.

He shook his head vehemently. "No...I'm not going back."

"Why?"

"It's complicated...but, I just needed to go, alright?" He came back a little more testy than he had meant to be. "look...I'm sorry, but I can't stay here. I've got...things I need to do- things you wouldn't understand."

"Really? And where are you gonna go, Sam? How are you going to get there and how are you going to pay to feed yourself? I mean look at you, you don't even have a set of clothes that fit you right."

"You don't have to worry about me." He argued back. "I can take care of myself."

"Just give me a good reason why you're doing this. Please...I thought we were starting to become friends here, but I know you're holding so much back. What is it, Sam? What are you looking for?"

Sam sighed and briefly closed his eyes. He didn't owe her the truth, did he? He barely knew her and she barely knew him. Sure, she had been his nurse for years, but she had never really known the man that lay asleep for all of that time. However, one look in her pleading eyes and he started to spill some of the things he had been keeping from her.

"I have this brother...I don't know where he is- whether he's alive or...or if he's dead. But, either way I have to know. I have to find him and I can't do that while trapped inside a hospital. I need answers..."

"Why didn't you just say this before- I can help you out."

"You don't get it. I have to leave Chicago. But, there's a friend of mine in Pontiac that might be able to help me find my brother."

"Well, then..." She looked down at her lap for a moment before raising her head once again and looking his straight in the eye, determination marking her features. "I guess I'll just have to take you there."

Sam shook his head quickly. "No...I can't ask that of you. Besides, don't you have work?"

She snorted and shook her head in dismay. "I wish. Yesterday Dr. Morse got wind of how I 'borrowed' your medical records and that was on top of the chewing out he already gave me for spilling the beans about how long you had been in a coma before he got a chance to talk to you himself." she sighed heavily. "So, I am now officially on suspension for the next two weeks and who knows if I'll still have a job after that."

Sam let his feelings of regret come through on his face. "I'm sorry, Pepper. You did all of that for me and look what it got you. You should probably walk away from me right now before I get you into any more trouble."

"It's too late for that, Sam." She shrugged. "I'm invested in you now whether you like it or not and I would be remiss in my duties as a nurse if I let you go gallivanting across the state in the condition you are in and besides, just imagining Dr. Morse's face when he sees you've skipped out on him is good enough for me. So, c'mon...My car isn't parked too far away and I've got cookies you need to start eating."

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I just wanted give a little warning about this next installment and say that there are a few spoilers coming up from season six. I also want to give out a**__**nother big round of thanks to all of you that have taken the time to read and review this story. I'm overwhelmed with your responses and because you all have been so great, awesome, and fantastic I've decided to post the rest of this story as one chapter. So, here it is- the final installment and the answer to Sam's mystery. I hope you enjoy it. :D**_

**Part IV**

"Sam...Sam...wake up, we're almost there." He felt a nudge on his shoulder and Sam opened his eyes then wiped at his mouth, embarrassed by the fact the he had not only fallen asleep during the drive, but had apparently drooled all over himself.

"Where are we?" He asked groggily, looking out the window that he had moments before been sleeping against. They were continuing on the interstate and it was still a little disconcerting waking up in this car. He was used to driving all over the country and sleeping in the car while Dean drove, but this was different.

He missed the rumble of the Impala's engine under his legs that never failed to lull him to sleep faster than a mother's lullaby, but this little Prius of Pepper's moved silently and smoothly across the pavement with little noise from the outside world seeping in. He felt like he was in a vacuum and he had to admit that he even missed the blaring sounds of classic rock blasting out of the tape deck while Dean tapped at the wheel and either hummed or sang along.

God, he missed that.

"We're about ten minutes out from Pontiac. You feeling better after your nap?" She asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

"Yeah." He said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Guess I was a little tired." He admitted without trying to let on just how exhausting getting out of the hospital had been for him.

He went back to watching the scenery pass by and ever since their trip had begun, Sam had taken note of how the cars on the road had changed. The vast majority of them were now either hybrids like the one Pepper drove or completely electric, but who could really blame people for switching from gas-guzzling SUV's and cars like the Impala when just about every gas station they passed sold a gallon of regular for over $8. Sam had no idea how he was going to pay Pepper back for the fuel she was using up.

They drove on mostly in silence until they reached the hospital and Pepper parked the car. "You want me to help you get inside?" She asked and Sam figured he must look as fatigued as he felt, but this was something he had to do alone. He was grateful for her offer of help, but he wasn't quite ready to let her in on the conversation he needed to have with the man inside.

"Nah...I'll be fine. I need to talk with my friend in private if that's okay."

She nodded. "Sure, I understand. I'll just wait out here. Good thing I brought a book along." She said as she dug into her purse and pulled out her tablet reading device.

"Doesn't anybody read from real books anymore?" He grumbled.

She shrugged. "It's a brave new world, Sam. Why waste a tree for a trashy romance novel?"

"Good point." He nominally agreed before pushing his door open. "I'll try not to be too long."

"Take your time." She came back distractedly, already buried in the words displayed on her screen.

Sam shuffled across the parking lot using his cane for support, feeling much like an old man as he pushed himself along and was already approaching exhaustion by the time he made it to the reception desk and asked for Jimmy/Cas' room number.

Locating the room was much easier than getting to it, but Sam wasn't going to let the aches and weakness in his limbs stop him from getting to his destination. When he finally did make it to the room, he was out of breath and took a moment to let his lungs catch up before knocking on the closed door.

"Come in." He heard from the other side and Sam tentatively opened the door, practically holding his breath until he was inside. Cas...or he should say, Jimmy was propped up in bed and alone in the room, his head bandaged and arm slung up across his chest. But, to Sam's relief he was awake and alert, peering at Sam with a quizzical eye.

"Ca-...er...uh Jimmy?" He stuttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable seeing the man out of the rumpled suit and trenchcoat that practically defined him.

"Yes?" He asked, sounding nothing like the husky voiced angel Sam knew.

"Do you remember me?" Sam asked.

The former angel shook his head. "Sorry...I took a pretty good knock on the head and things are still kinda jumbled up. Who are you? Are you from the church?"

"What?...uh...no. My name's Sam...Sam Winchester?" Sam raised his eyebrows hoping his name would ring some bells.

"Sam who?" Jimmy continued to eye him warily. "You're not another reporter, are you? 'Cause I don't want anymore articles written about me. I'm no hero..."

"Don't worry I'm not a reporter. I just wanted to ask..." Sam stepped in closer and lowered his voice for only Jimmy to hear. "Don't you remember Castiel?"

"Castiel?" Jimmy narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Who's Castiel?"

Jeez...Sam was getting more than a little frustrated by Jimmy's apparent amnesia. At least the last time Cas had left Jimmy, the man had most of his memories of being a vessel intact, but this time seemed different- Jimmy apparently had no clue who he or Castiel even were and Sam wasn't sure if his memory loss was due to his injury or something else

He decided to switch tactics. "I'm sorry...But, I read about you in the paper and we met some years ago- back in 2007 or so, do you recall that?"

Jimmy furrowed his brow "Was that the conference in Detroit? Because that was back in 2010 not 2007."

Sam wasn't expecting that. Jimmy had already been possessed by Cas in 2007- how could he remember a conference he attended in 2010 when he had most definitely been busy helping he and Dean stop the apocalypse then?

Sam shook his head, feeling queasy. "So...you don't remember Dean either?...or Bobby?"

Jimmy pursed his lips and shook his head.

"What about Raphael? Zachariah?"

"I'm sorry...maybe you have me confused with someone else, but I don't know those people."

Sam was almost at a lost for words, raking a hand through his hair. "Maybe...I'm sorry...I uh...I just thought..."

"Hey...it's okay, Pal. I've been working for my business for over twenty years now and I forget names and faces all of the time, Sorry I don't remember ya."

"It's okay." Sam replied numbly. _20 years?_ "I uh...I should go- let you rest."

"Okay. Well...it was nice meeting you, Sam. It was Sam, right?"

Sam nodded stupidly, feeling the bottom falling out from under his feet.

"Hey, Buddy...you alright?" Jimmy eyed him with concern one might show for a stranger. "You look a little green around the gills."

Sam could only nod before he felt his heavy feet leading him to the door and out the room. He nearly stumbled before he caught himself on the nearest bench of chairs and collapsed into them, feeling the wind rush out of his lungs.

Jimmy had no memory of him- of Dean- of Bobby- not even Castiel or the apocalypse, nothing of the years he had spent with them. But apparently he did remember working for the same company for 20 years. It didn't make any sense.

It was like he woke up and found himself in the Twilight Zone or some kind of other dimension. Sam wondered what else was different than he remembered and he reached into his back pocket, pulling out the little tablet computer, turning it on and hacking into the hospital's wi-fi, firing up the internet.

He hadn't seen any point in looking into the past during his search for his brother, he had been too focused on finding him in the here and now. But, he was coming to the realization that he should have- he should have gone back all the way to the beginning.

First he looked up the events of 2010. A mess had been made the moment Lucifer had taken over his body and tried to start the apocalypse. Earthquakes, tornadoes and other natural disasters had struck causing untold amounts of damage, yet he could find nothing about them in his search. It was like they never even happened.

It was all starting to sink in. He hadn't just awoken to a new time, he had woken up in a completely different world.

Sam could barely read the screen any longer as his hands began to shake and he started another search- this one for himself.

He went back to birth records in Lawrence, Kansas for 1983 and came up empty. There was no birth-certificate for him, which came as no surprise since he clearly recalled deleting it but when he found Dean's, he started to feel dizzy. He thought he had deleted that as well...maybe he just thought he had, he tried to explain to himself.

He dug deeper still and was surprised when he came across a death certificate for his father from the same database in Lawrence and read in grim disbelief that it was dated January 12, 2017- of cancer. That had to be almost ten years after his dad actually died- and he he had died in Missouri, not Kansas.

Sam had to grab the sides of the bench after he read that, his head had started to spin so much and his stomach flip-flopped that he almost toppled over. _Get a grip, Sam._ He chided himself then focused on finding more.

He scanned through dad's death certificate and found his occupation listed as 'auto shop owner', marriage status: widowed and his next-of-kin: Dean Winchester.

Was any of this possible? Had his father never gone into hunting after his mom died? Had he really lived his entire life in Lawrence- working everyday as a mechanic- living a normal life? It was almost too much to comprehend.

It wasn't long before Sam found Dad's business record and learned the phone number to his shop. He was just about ready to jump out of his seat and find the nearest phone when he caught sight of Pepper hurrying over to him.

"I said take your time, Sam, but that didn't mean all day." She huffed but then stopped short, her eyes darting to him in concern. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost- What happened?"

He couldn't even begin to explain any of this to her and he had only one thing on his mind. "Pepper, I need your phone for a minute."

"You're not gonna tell me what's wrong first?" She asked, but dug into her pocket anyway and handed over her phone.

Sam shook his head, feeling a migraine taking hold. "I just need to make a call first, okay?"

She just shrugged and watched him closely as he dialed the number for the shop then held his breath, unsure of who would answer the phone, but hoping it might be Dean.

"_Y'ello? Larry's Automotive, this is Larry." _A coarse voice drawled on the other end.

"Uh...hello. I'm sorry... I thought this was the number for Winchester Auto Repair..." Sam sputtered.

"_Well, it used to be, but now it's not." _Larry replied plainly. _"Now it's called Larry's"_

Sam rubbed his forehead. "Yeah...okay. But, look... I was just wondering if this is the same shop owned by John Winchester."

"_John? Oh...well, I'm sorry, buddy, but John passed on a few years ago and left the shop to his son. But, I guess the kid didn't have much of a head for business so he sold me the place about a year ago."_

"Dean?" Sam suddenly felt hopeful. "Does he still work there?"

"_Nah...he and his wife moved as soon as the business was sold." _

_Wife? _Sam almost wondered out loud.

"Where?" He demanded to know.

"_Uh...I don't have his exact address, but it was somewhere out in Iowa, I think. Maybe Cedar Rapids?"_

"Cedar Rapids? You're sure?"

"_Best as I can recollect."_

Sam hung up the after giving his thanks to Larry and sat motionless for a moment, trying to bring his thoughts and racing mind under control.

"Sam?" Pepper stepped in closer, touching his shoulder.

He looked up into Pepper's eyes beseechingly, it was asking a lot of her, but he needed her help once again. "Do you think you could take me to Iowa?"

OOOOOOO

Sam didn't bother to call first- this was something he could only do face-to-face.

"Well?" Pepper asked, turning to him as he looked out the car window at the nicely manicured, green lawn of the two-story, brick house, complete with beige sedan sitting in the driveway. It was hard to believe this was the place- Dean's home. The same brother who eschewed suburban life, who found it too stifling and monotonous lived here in this idyllic example of what 'normal' should be? It was almost unfathomable."You had me drive you all the way out here, aren't you going to go up there?"

He licked his lips in anticipation, unsure of what he would find out when he finally saw Dean and that left him with knots forming in the pit of his stomach.

"Go on." Pepper encouraged him and he took a deep inhale, blowing it out in a big whoosh before pushing open the door and stepping out.

He pushed his way slowly up the paved path towards the front door, relying on his cane more and more with each step to keep him upright. Pausing at the door, Sam hesitated before ringing the bell, his mouth dry and his heart pounding.

Gathering up his courage, he reached for the doorbell and pressed it in, hearing the chimes go off inside the house from his spot on the other side of the door. It felt like an eternity before he heard a lock turn and saw the door begin to creek open.

Sam felt his breath catch when the familiar dark-haired woman opened the door and looked up at him questioningly.

"Lisa..." He gaped at her. She was older with small crows feet sprouting around the corners of her dark eyes, but she was still the same beautiful woman he remembered. She narrowed her eyes at him, eying him warily.

"Uh...sorry...can I help you?" She asked, seemingly put off by him calling her by name.

"Hi-" He started almost breathlessly, searching for the right words. "Uh...I was wondering if Dean was home."

"Oh...are you a friend of his?" She asked and Sam felt his heart drop- She didn't know him either.

"I'm Sam. You don't remember me?"

"Sorry." She shrugged apologetically. "I don't know all Dean's friends. But, he's not home yet." Her eyes roved over to the road however and her face lit up with a smile seeing a vehicle approach their home. "No wait- here he comes."

Sam turned and watched as a plain, silver, hybrid minivan pulled into the driveway and stopped. Almost before the engine could come to a stop, one of the side doors opened up and a small tow-headed boy hopped out happily, running for the open door of the house and into Lisa's arms, babbling rapidly and all but ignoring Sam's presence.

"We won our game, Mommy! Can I call Ben and tell him?- he's the one that showed me how to throw a curve ball and I did it right this time. I struck out three guys! Maybe I'll get to play ball at college like Ben does too" Sam marveled at the little boy. He was the spitting image of Dean when he had been a little boy...Did this mean he was an uncle? Sam wondered.

"That's awesome, Johnny! You can call Ben after supper, okay?" Lisa grinned at her son and ruffled his hair affectionately. " Go wash up- it's almost time to eat."

"'Kay!" The little boy ran inside excitedly.

"Wipe your feet!" Lisa turned and raised her voice through the open door. "Sorry about that. He tends to get a little hyper after a game. Well, I need to get in and finish cooking. Nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam grinned as she walked back into the house, leaving the door open for the man strolling up the pathway. Sam turned and felt a lump begin to grow in his throat seeing Dean walking towards him without any signs of recognition.

"Dean?" He asked uncertainly.

Sam himself, would have had a hard time recognizing his brother in a crowd if it were not for his signature bow-legged swagger. Unlike Sam, who had withered over the last ten years, Dean seemed to have packed on the pounds, sporting a hefty paunch that stretched his light-blue polo shirt tight around his midsection and spilled over his belt. On top of that, his hairline was showing signs of receding and he wore a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that made him appear much older than what Sam was expecting.

Sam closed his mouth the second he realized he had been gaping at Dean.

"Can I help you with something?" His brother asked stopping just before him.

"Uh...uh." Sam stammered, stunned.

"Look, if you're here to sell us windows or something, don't bother. As you can see..." Dean waved his hands towards the house. "We already got plenty of them and they all work just fine."

"No..no. I'm not here to sell you anything." Sam felt his heart begin to pound. "It's me, Dean...Sam? Please...please tell me that you know who I am." He begged.

"Sam?" Dean cocked his head at him. "Do I know you from somewhere? Did we go to high school together or something, 'cos I already told that girl from the school that I wasn't gonna be able to make it to the reunion."

Sam shook his head, the constriction in his throat that had started earlier grew tighter and he was practically panting for breath now, desperate for his brother to understand, to remember who he was. "No...Dean...please. You got to hear me out here. No one seems to remember who I am. But, you have to...you just have to..."

"Look, man...I'm sorry, but why should I remember you?"

"Because..." Sam paused, swallowing before he could speak again. "Because I'm your brother."

Dean's mouth twisted into a deep scowl, his eyes slanting in clear confusion mixed with anger as he took a step closer to Sam and lowered his voice. "I think you might be mistaken, buddy. I don't have a brother- never did."

"Dean...c'mon. You gotta dig a little here...I _am_ you brother and I think you know it, but...I don't know...maybe something's messing with your memories, but I gotta be in there somewhere. Think..._please_." Sam pleaded.

"I don't have time for this nonsense, okay?" Dean's face began to flush angrily. "I think you should just get going, Man."

Dean started to turn away and head for the door, but Sam couldn't let him go, not yet. "Wait! Mom...your mom...she died in a fire...November 2nd , 1983, didn't she?"

Dean stopped mid-stride without turning around, but Sam could tell from the way his back straightened and shoulders tensed that he had struck a nerve.

"Listen...This is what I've been trying to explain to you. I was born in Lawrence just like you. My father was John Winchester, my mother was Mary..."

Dean turned violently around and looked as if his head might burst when it took on a beet-red flush as he stalked his way with a finger pointed at him as if it were a gun. "Now, you look here, you fucking asshole. I don't know where you dug up all this information on me and my family or what kind of sick game you're playing, but you got your facts all wrong- my mother didn't die in November- it was May and the fire that killed her, killed the baby she was pregnant with too. She never got a chance to give birth and have another son and I never got the chance to have a brother. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll get off my property and leave me and my family the_ hell_ alone or I'll call the cops, Got it?"

Sam felt as though he had been punched in the gut and he found it near impossible to take a breath. Dean believed mom had died while pregnant with him...Sam had never been born- not in this world- not in this reality.

"_Dean._.." He begged, hoping beyond hope that he could make him believe the truth.

"GO!" Dean shouted as he pushed Sam in the chest, knocking him off balance and sending him towards the ground until he landed hard on his backside. Dean never looked back after that, he simply left Sam sitting there on the lawn as he stormed through the front door and slammed it shut behind him, rattling the glass in the windows beside it.

Stunned, Sam could only sit there, his head slumping down until his chin hit his chest, a hand absently running through his hair. Everything he had ever know was now gone, twisted up, turned upside down, and then shredded to pieces. A deep, heart-wrenching pain soon took over and his eyes swelled involuntarily with tears until he choked back a full-on sob.

He lost it all...lost Bobby, lost Cas...and now Dean.

He lost his whole life.

OOOOOOO

Sam sat with his head wearily leaning against the window of Pepper's car defeated, exhausted and overcome with hopelessness as she drove away from Dean's house.

"God, Sam...I'm sorry. I take it you and your brother never got along? Is that why he never came to see you in the hospital?"

He didn't have the energy nor the resolve to respond. She'd never understand and he had no way to explain it himself, much less to her.

Sam said little on the return trip back to Chicago and he had given up on being polite and responding to any of her concerned questions- he just didn't care anymore and he fell into a deep, but troubled sleep as the miles flew by outside his window.

It was well past midnight by the time Sam woke up again and he noticed that they were on the interstate circling the city.

"We should be back at my place in just a few minutes, Sam."

He lifted his head groggily and shook it. "You don't have to do that. You've done enough for me- you can just drop me off at the nearest motel."

Pepper set her face. "Nonsense, Sam. No arguing, okay? You're going back to my place where you get get some proper rest, alright?" Indeed there was no arguing with her and as promised, minutes later they were pulling into a parking space outside a large apartment building.

Sam let himself out of the car and immediately caught the scent of the lake nearby. He was too tired to really take in much of their surroundings other than the faint smell of fish as Pepper hooked an arm around his and lead him towards her building.

Something tickled his memory as they approached it- he couldn't put his finger on it, but the place felt familiar somehow. He shrugged it off though and chalked it up to exhaustion and his hurting heart.

Pepper entered a code into the security system to open the front door and Sam let her practically drag him into the brightly-lit lobby before leading him down a corridor to her door. Opening it up, she flicked on a light, revealing a tidy and tastefully decorated apartment.

"I guess you can take the couch tonight if that's okay with you."

Sam just nodded, weariness seeping out of all his pores. "I'm just gonna go change and find some blankets for you. So, go ahead an make yourself at home."

Finding the couch, Sam lowered his aching body down and slumped into the cushions. His exhaustion was not only physical in nature, he was just bone-tired of this life and the prospect of facing the rest of it without Bobby _and_ Dean...he wasn't sure he could do it.

At least Dean seemed content with his life as it was and Sam tried to take some comfort in that, but it was hard to feel anything but heartache.

Maybe he just needed to accept this new life, he thought miserably, and find a way to keep trudging on day by day, even if every fiber within him just wanted to give up and fall back into that deep, dreamless oblivion of the coma he had emerged from and never wake up again.

Sam heard a rustle from behind him and turned around. Pepper had changed into a simple, sleeveless night gown and was carrying a pile of pillows, bed linens and blankets, heading his way.

"I hope these will be enough to keep you warm tonight. This building used to be a fish processing plant before they converted it into apartments, so it still gets a little drafty in here sometimes."

"I'm sure I'll be fine." He mumbled back. Pepper bent over to lay the pillows and blankets down on the coffee table before the sofa and as she did so, Sam's attention was drawn to her upper arms, a feature of the woman that had been covered in his presense before that point

He furrowed his brow as he traced the black lines that swirled and encircled her shoulders- she hadn't struck him as the kind of girl that would sport tattoos, but perhaps this was another sign of the new times he was trapped in. However, just then he suddenly felt a strange sense of deja vu wash over him- there was something about those designs- something he should know that was obvious, yet he couldn't grab a hold of their meaning.

"Those are interesting tattoos." He pointed out, wanting to know more about them and why they seemed so familiar to him.

"Oh...these? Yeah..." She caressed her bare arms. "They're kind of a family tradition to get these. I hope to have more like my father did one day."

Her comment sounded strange to his ears. "So the family that inks together stays together?"

She snorted with something that came close to a sneer and he was overcome and taken aback by the sense of danger he felt from the look in her eyes.

"My father had these- so did my sisters and brothers- all in my clan get them."

"Clan?"

"Yeah...my family- " She looked down, speaking with her eyes downcast. "But, they're all gone now. I'm the last of my line...I'm all alone."

Something in her tone of voice suddenly changed and she when she spoke again, it dripped with deep-seeded anger. "They were all killed. First my father... and then a couple of years later my sisters and brothers were all hunted down like animals and I was the only one to get away."

She turned darkened eyes on him. "But now you must know what it's like, Sam...to have your whole family- your whole world- everything and everyone you ever cared for or who loved you in return taken from your life..." She leaned in close to him and hissed in his ear, "Now you know how I feel."

A wave of fear washed over Sam as her words sunk in and his mind began to feed him images and the pieces of the puzzle they created coalesced into one solid memory: the old abandoned building down by the lake, the long corridor with the open door at the end, the smell of fish and of decay. He also remembered clearly what he and Dean had been hunting now.

It had only been a couple of days after learning about Crowley from Eve when Sam read about the seven people missing in Chicago. One of those missing people had turned up floating in Lake Michigan- completely drained of blood. Dean thought vampires at first, but after gaining access to the body thanks to Dean's handiwork at creating fake FBI IDs, Sam found no signs of a vampire bite, instead he found one clean puncture mark through the jugular...most likely made by a hypodermic needle. After that they knew what they were after and tracked down the location they believed it might be hiding out by triangulating the spots where all of the victims had gone missing.

The tattoos on her arms should have clued him in right away for that was his true last memory before he woke up in this alternate reality- those arms grabbing him and taking hold with a power he couldn't fight off.

She must have been doing something to him this whole time so he wouldn't recall it all until now.

He gulped heavily, knowing that nothing was as it appeared.

Pepper lifted her head, her once dark, brown eyes now glowing a vivid, electric blue.

He took in her new appearance with a stifled gasp. "You're a djinn...aren't you? You lured us here- took all those people so we would come after you. This whole time...the coma?...Bobby's death?...no one remembering me? None of it's real...You made it all up, didn't you? This is some sort of dream.. or hallucination."

"Took you long enough to figure it out- I was getting pretty sick of the play-acting and pretending to be your friend, but it was all worth it seeing your face the moment Dean rejected you and tossed you on your ass..." She sneered, closing in on him until she had him lying on the couch and straddling him, pinning his weakened frame so he couldn't fight back.

"It's just too bad Dean wasn't with you when you stumbled into my web- I could have had fun with you both at once... but, no matter- I'll find him eventually and give him whats coming to him as well. Just consider this my payback for the all of the pain and grief you've caused me- for killing my father- for the way you and your grandfather kidnapped my kin and robbed them from me- leaving me all alone."

Sam didn't personally remember any of the events of the year he spent soulless or of hunting with Samuel Campbell, but he knew enough from Dean's explainations that they had been rounding up supernatural creatures like the djinn and sending them off to Crowley. Sam started to understand her anger and need for vengeance now, not that it made him feel any less frightened of her though.

"I could always kill myself- dying here will wake me up." He declared defiantly.

She laughed in his face, her eyes ablaze with vehemence. "You forget that you're in my sandbox now, Sam... there's no way you can wake yourself up from this- I can make you belief whatever I want." She waved her hand over him and Sam felt his body go numb. "Even paralyze you from the neck down so you can never move again."

Sam's heart raced when he tried to move and nothing happened.

"By the way, I made sure to open up your wrists in the real world so that right now as we speak, your life is seeping away down to a dirty floor where Dean won't find you until it's too late. He won't be able to save you and you'll be dead in minutes from blood loss, but in your mind, Sam- you will live a long, long life- alone, with no family, no one to love you and nothing to look forward to each day except for bitterness, loneliness... and despair... Just like how you left me."

Sam shook his head, wanting to grab her neck and throttle her, but her power over his mind was too great and he couldn't move anything but his head.."No...it isn't real."

"Real enough, Sam." She smiled maliciously, then slid off of him, leaving him lying helpless on the couch as she walked backwards away from him.

"I'll be calling the hospital now, so they can come and take you back...I'm sure Dr. Morse will be pleased to see you return and I bet you'll have a simply fantastic time being his guinea pig..." She added with malicious sarcasm.

Sneering venomously, she was about to turn and pick up her phone when she suddenly stopped mid-stride, her eyes growing wide in shock, anger, fear, panic and pain. Her mouth opened to let out a scream, but only a choking, gurgling sound came out as blood bubbled and spurted forth, dribbling onto her chin and down her neck in rivers of red. She turned accusing eyes on him as a bright, crimson circle grew from underneath her nightgown and spread swiftly across her abdomen, soaking the once white fabric into a deep scarlet. At last, the life fled from her body and she fell onto the floor, her eyes staring up vacantly into space.

Sam had no time to react to the unexplained and sudden demise of the djinn before a wave of exhaustion and fatigue crashed over him accompanied by an overwhelming desire to close his eyes and just rest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew shouldn't give in to it, but it was too tempting to resist.

"_Sam?" _A faint voice shouted from a distance, almost too hard to hear. _"Sammy...c'mon, man...wake up already."_

The softness of the couch underneath him disappeared, replaced by a feeling of floating through the air.

"Sam..._shit._...hold on- I'm gonna get you down." Sam tried peeling his eyes open. He took in the sights surrounding him in a detached sort of way, to tired to have an emotional reaction to it all: gone was the apartment, replaced by chains hanging from the exposed, steel girders of the ceiling above while bodies hung suspended next to him, some of them fresh, but all of them smelling of death. Last of all, his eyes landed on the djinn, her eyes glaring up at him lifelessly, a silver blade sticking out from her back and piercing it's way all the way through her body.

He wanted to again close his eyes and go back to sleep, but pain came next- his hands and wrists flaring in white-hot agony while an involuntary groan escaped from deep within his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut then felt something give above him, his hands falling and the floating sensation he had experienced before soon became a cold, hard rock beneath him.

"Hey...hey.." He felt a tapping on his cheek followed by pressure being placed over his wrists. "Open your eyes, Sam...c'mon, sleepy time's over. Time to come back to reality, 'kay?"

Sam forced his heavy eyes to crack open and he caught a glance of short, sandy colored-hair bobbing over him.

"D-?" He tried to speak, but that urge to close his eyes again and go back to a blissful state of oblivion was back.

"No you don't...no sleeping...stay with me here."

From somewhere Sam found the will to stay awake and it may have been helped along by his happiness at seeing his brother and hearing him saying his name...just knowing who he was.

"You...you know who...I y'am?" Sam asked just to make sure this wasn't still a part of the dream.

"Course I know who you are, Bitch. But, you're bleeding like a stuck pig right now so shut it so I can get these bandages on tight."

Sam wouldn't have been able to wipe the smile off his face even if he had tried and as it was, he was only half aware of what he was slurring out as he gazed up at his brother with slow, sleepy blinks. "Glad you...glad you 'member me"

"Oookay...Guess that makes two of us." Dean drawled out in response to his little brother's non sequitur, humoring his loopy state. "I think we need to get out of here and pump you full of some juice and cookies- blood loss makes you kinda stupid, Sammy."

**Epilogue**

_"Nah I don't think you need to come out... I think he's gonna be okay, just tired right now.. Yeah, I know...I'll call you when we're back on the road again, okay Bobby? Yep- Bye"_

Dean's voice and the sound of him snapping closed his phone cut into Sam's dream while sunlight hit him directly in the face, rousing him from some of the most peaceful rest he had had in a long time. He cursed the sun internally for robbing him of the extra sleep he could have taken in, but when he opened his eyes and gazed about the room, he was happy to be awake.

Half-eaten cartons of Chinese food, discarded m&m bags, empty soda and juice cans and one unshaven brother sitting up in the other bed picking up the remote and flipping through channels on the motel TV set was a sight for Sam's sore eyes.

"Hey- looks like Rip van Winkle finally decided that 18 hours of sleep was enough for one day." Dean quipped after noticing Sam staring at him. "How're ya feelin?" He asked.

Sam sat up slowly with a groan, his head full of cotton, mouth dry, sewn-up, bandaged wrists aching and needing to pee, but for all of that, he hadn't felt better in a what felt like an eternity and definitely better than last night when Dean had to practically carry him into the room.

"Not bad, actually." He replied to Dean's question truthfully. His body was his own again- not the feeble shadow of the man who had spent ten years wasting away in a bed and he doubted he would ever take being fit and healthy for granted ever again.

"Here-" Dean grabbed an unopened can of grape juice and sent it sailing in the air towards Sam. "Drink some more juice- you still look like one of those pale bitches from those vampire movies."

"Aww damn...speaking of liquids..." Sam hurried to the bathroom to relieve his over-burdened bladder. When he was finished with his business, he washed his hands then looked up in the mirror. His face stared back at him, full, young, healthy and strong, but in the corner of his mind, he could still see the sunken-in and weary image of the man the djinn had made him to believe he had been.

He turned away from it and left the bathroom, not wanting to think of that face ever again.

He crossed the room and headed back to his bed and sitting down and leaning his back against the headboard, joining Dean in watching some rather idiotic show about douchebags that lived in New Jersey and used way too much spray tan in order to get his mind off of the spectre of the djinn illusions.

However, even such brainless TV did little to distract him and his thoughts drifted back to that bizzaro world he barely escaped.

"Well, this is lame." Dean complained as he shut off the TV and tossed the remote aside, sensing that Sam's head was elsewhere. "Alright, Sam. You gonna spill about the djinn or what?"

"What." Sam came back monotonously, absently picking at a loose string dangling from the bottom of his t-shirt. Dean threw a pillow at him, making sure it hit him over the head.

"Dean..." Sam sighed heavily, tossing the pillow away. "It doesn't matter- it wasn't real."

"I know how those things can make you believe that what you're experiencing is real, and dammit if I didn't want to stay living in that dream world when I got caught by one of those things... But, somehow I get the feeling it wasn't the same with you-"

"Not exactly..." Sam agreed quietly, the string on his shirt getting more twisted up until he finally snapped it off. "It wasn't a world I would have wanted to stay in..."

"So tell...what did she make you see?" Dean insisted without demanding, gently prodding Sam to talk and get things off his chest.

Sam sighed. Dean was going to keep asking so he started off from the beginning, going over the experiences he had in Pepper's (if that was even her real name)fantasy land. When he was done, Dean was quiet and pensive.

"So...that was pretty much it. You came along and killed her..." He paused then added, "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Hey...it was a good thing we knew it was a djinn before going in or I wouldn't have known to bring the knife dipped in lambs blood, so good call on your part."

"How did you find me, anyway?"

"Wasn't too hard. I had just made it to the basement when I thought I heard something and tried to call you, but when you didn't answer I came looking for you and my nose led me the rest of the way. She must have had about four or five other bodies strung up in there...that's kinda a hard smell to miss."

"Wait...so...you couldn't have been away from me more than a few minutes then." Sam suddenly realized.

"Nah...maybe ten- fifteen minutes, tops." Dean agreed. "Any longer and you might have bled out before I found you."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "It felt like weeks."

"Yeah well, those Djinn can do a real mind fuck on ya. Make you believe almost anything- even the most crazy things like me being a fat, suburban soccer-dad." Dean quipped half-heartedly. Sam knew that deep down Dean would have been happy with a life like that, so he quickly moved to teasing in order to deflect any feelings about Lisa and Ben and the life Dean had with them before they dragged his brother down.

"Actually..." Sam began, a smirk curling his lips up. "You were a balding, glasses wearing, baseball-dad that drove a minivan."

"Good God..._a minivan_?" Dean winced. "Now that really _would_ have been a nightmare..."

Sam was quiet again and Dean got up from his bed to take a seat on the edge of Sam's then nudged him with his knee. "Hey...There's something you're still not telling me, isn't there?" He asked, sensing that Sam was holding back a few things from him.

"It's nothing..." Sam tried to brush off his darkening mood, but Dean wasn't buying it.

"Bullshit...your mouth says one thing, but your pouty, bitchy face says another. So c'mon...start singin'."

Sam blew out a deep breath, not really wanting to go into how he was feeling, but with Dean getting increasingly less patient with his reluctance, he started to talk. "It's...it's just that...what if something like that really happened? What if this wall in my head suddenly came crashing down one day and I was left a drooling vegetable for the rest of my life? I wouldn't want you to be burdened taking care of me..I'd want you to move on and-"

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa!... " Dean raised his hands to stop him mid-sentence. "Who said anything about you becoming a vegetable? For one thing you got me and there's no way I'm gonna let anything happen to that over-stuffed brain of yours and for another..." Dean became suddenly quieter as he gripped Sam's shoulder and looked him dead-on in the eye, his voice coming through emphatically and with a crystal-clear honesty that left Sam feeling an embarrasing amount of moisture begin to gather in his eyes.

"You'd never be a burden to me, Sam- no matter what happens- not ever."

**The End**


End file.
